Ys Talovar Home of Calamitas
The ice never sleeps—because what lies beneath it dreams of waking."
The Compendium of Information
This compendium is not complete. It will never be. But it is mine, and it is yours, and it is Ys Talovar's—what’s left of her.
I have gathered what I can. Transcripts from half-burned libraries. Recipes passed down through six wrong tongues. Newspaper clippings that still smell like ink and ash. Every scrap, every sketch, every name someone cared to write down. Not to rebuild the past, which would be a lie. But to hold up a candle and say, look—this is where we are. This is what we still have. And maybe, if we’re lucky, what we might become.
Ys Talovar cracked. But cracks let light through. That’s what I’m hoping for.
—Arch Scholar Aneas, in The compendium of information
It’s been 20,000 years since the Hazard was sealed in the molten heart of the world—an act that split the land and froze the equator into a howling, haunted tundra. From the great ice-chasm, the breath of ancient monsters still rises, curling through abandoned ruins and whispering through the minds of those who stray too close. Most think the stories are just that—legends. Ghost tales told by firelight in the northern cities, places that are always growing, always moving forward. The scars of the Calamity are buried deep beneath fresh stone and fresh ambition.